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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25786246">A Despairing Road Of Recovery</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManiacalTeddy/pseuds/ManiacalTeddy'>ManiacalTeddy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Zero, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Danganronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon - Anime, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling For The Wrong Person, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Love Triangle, Manga &amp; Anime, Multi, Origin Story, Other, Romance, Sequel, Unofficial Sequel, danganronpa - Freeform, video games - Freeform, what if</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:27:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,214</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25786246</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManiacalTeddy/pseuds/ManiacalTeddy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Junko Enoshima was saved from execution... and cured of despair?</p><p>Will Junko be forgiven for her disdainful past? Can someone that damaged find redemption? Read to find out!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Enoshima Junko/Naegi Makoto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. PROLOGUE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is an ongoing “what if” I’ve written with canon material in mind, and mainly focuses on the relationship between Junko and Makoto Naegi. Each chapter takes turns narrating from both characters’ perspectives. I plan for this story to have most of the characters appear over time in some shape or form to torment Junko...</p><p>Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Light.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">A bright light... blinding... me...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Where am I?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Who... am... I...?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">J... Jun... ko...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">E... no...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Eno...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">... shima...?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. AWAKE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The amnesiac Junko awakes in a hospital bed. Three familiar faces surround her as memories begin to trickle back...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">“You’re awake! G-guys, look — she’s finally awake!”</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Pfft — that’s hardly riveting, Naegi; I cannot say I missed that wench’s foul tongue.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Quiet — we must make caution not to disturb her too much. Her motor functions will be slow to start with.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Miss Enoshima — what do you remember?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Words begin to flood back to me... but memories? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">I’ve only just remembered my name... </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">That <em>is</em> my name, right? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Junko... Enoshima...”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">My blurred vision begins to correct itself... </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Stood before me are three distinct characters; a short man with spiky brown hair, a tall blonde gentleman with a piercing blue glare, and a woman with long silvery locks tied neatly back with a black ribbon. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">As she lifts a hand to her chin, I notice the studded gloves...</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">I recognise them.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Kiri... giri...?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Her lilac irises widen.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Ah. So you remember me, hmm? Do you recall the names of these two, as well?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Glancing over... the names pop into my brain.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“To...gami... a-and...”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Ah, of course — it’s him. I remember his smile so vividly now...</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“N-Naegi.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">That cheerful grin — there it is again. Right before me. He’s smiling... at me...</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You remember us! I’m glad, Enoshima. Welcome back.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Why on Earth are you being so polite to this demon?! Have those wild eyes of hers bewitched you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The blonde shoots him an angry side-eye, arms crossed tightly as he huffs under his breath. The short male reacts by flailing up his arms in a surrendering action, his cheeks blushing.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“No! Of course n-not! But Togami, we have to remember — this isn’t the same Junko Enoshima from before.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">... Huh?</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">I’m... <em>not the same?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He continues to explain.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“We need to treat her like a clean slate. We have to bring hope to her... remember?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The taller man deeply sighs... then turns toward the door.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll leave you both to play dolls then. Let me know if you require... a certain kind of assistance.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Those last five words rang through my ears with a sinister, unsettling feeling. What could he mean?</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">I’ve only been reacquainted with him a few moments, and I can tell in my gut that I already dislike him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“...Togami, wait!—“</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“It’s no use, Naegi — let him go. We have more important matters to attend to.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Enoshima... do you feel ready to talk to us? We just want to ask a few questions.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">I try to prop myself up in the bed I’ve woken up laying upon. My arms don’t feel capable of supporting my weight...</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Here, I’ll help you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The man, Naegi... his voice is warm. And kind.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He reaches for the pillows behind me, fluffing them upright. He takes my shoulders... his voice isn’t the only warm thing about him; his soft hands are welcoming heat as well...</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Better?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Y-Yes.” I stutter.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Now upright, I have a clearer view of the room; as I suspected, I’m in a hospital.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“So, can you answer my questions, now? Or shall we come back later?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The woman wears a perfect pokerface... and yet, her words sound icy cold. I am of the opinion I shouldn’t displease her.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll try.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“... Good.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She grabs a clipboard off the edge of the bed, and begins reading a series of questions in a monotone drill.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Firstly; how do you feel?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">I’m unsure of how to answer in detail...</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, I think.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Silence.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Next question; what is the last memory you recall before waking up here?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Uhh...”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The man speaks up.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe we shouldn’t push her to remember...”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Quiet, Naegi.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“... Sorry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">His cheeks flush pink again.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“... Can you remember, Enoshima?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">I close my eyes, trying desperately to dive into the deepest parts of my brain, to recall anything... </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">There is something.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“A... courtroom?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">It doesn’t make sense to me... yet. But I’m starting to envision it clearer.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“16 podiums... a throne... you three were there... another two girls... and another long-haired boy...</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">... and... a teddy bear...?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Do you recall their names?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">One by one... they come back to me.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Aoi Asahina... Toko Fukawa... Yasuhiro Hagakure...</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Monokuma.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> <em>*CLANG!*</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“AAAAGHH!!!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">My head my head MY HEAD —</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Junko! What’s wrong?!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">I’m rocking back and forth; one memory, then another, and another...</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">No. No no no no no.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Nononononononononoooooo.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">I DON’T WANT TO REMEMBER —</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">DON’T MAKE ME REMEM —</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“We need help! Someone!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">... and pitch black.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. COFFEE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>With Junko beginning to remember her previous life in hospital, Naegi, Togami and Kirigiri discuss their plan of action over coffee in the hotel restaurant.</p><p>What can the trio expect from curing Junko of despair? Can she be redeemed the same way the remnants were? Or has this former Ultimate Despair committed one too many crimes to cross over to the side of Hope?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe we shouldn’t have pushed her so hard, guys.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I sip my coffee; it has actually begun to get cold. Instead of drinking it, I haven’t been able to shake my mind off of the sight of that disturbed girl...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She isn’t the Junko Enoshima from before.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s not the Junko Enoshima who masterminded a Killing Game to make her classmates kill each other while the whole world watches.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This Junko Enoshima... the one that lays unconscious in the hospital bed with no make-up... red, rabbit-like irises... and crimson roots growing from her scalp... is an entirely new person. And not just in appearance.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I look to my two colleagues; my closest friends. We’re sat around the restaurant table, unsure of what to do.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Togami is the first to speak up.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s clear that she had some sort of psychotic breakdown as she recalled her diabolical past.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sips from his cup, then lowers it to reveal a dastardly smirk.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good. She deserves to suffer for the unimaginable horrors she put us through; wouldn’t you agree, Kirigiri?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kirigiri stares down at her concealed palms. Even with how close we are, there are still times when I can’t even begin to imagine what her intricate thought process is. I suppose that’s the Ultimate Detective for you; always thinking one step ahead. I sure am glad she’s on our side... and our dearest comrade.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We must remain indifferent for the time being. Just because we have supposedly cured her... infatuation... that doesn’t mean that she won’t be dangerous.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I cheerfully chip in, determined to lighten this grim topic. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I agree with Kirigiri — we can’t think too hard about the past, no matter how painful it is. We’ve all suffered losses at the hands of the person she used to be; but I wholeheartedly think that everyone deserves a second chance to redeem themselves. I mean, if I didn’t believe in second chances... you guys wouldn’t be my friends right now!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s hard to think there was actually a time where we almost had each other killed, back in that notorious high school... Togami had done some questionable things to mess with class investigations, and Kirigiri was even willing to sacrifice me, an ally, just to uncover the secrets of the school... </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The thing is, desperate times force people to do unthinkable actions. Think of all of our classmates who became the blackened just to escape the horrors of the Killing Game — they wouldn’t have even had murder cross their mind during our two years together of school life, before we lost our memories! It was only because of the overwhelming despair...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A familiar face enters my mind — Sayaka Maizono. I had known her even before Hope’s Peak, at middle school. The sweet girl with big dreams and a friendly charm that warmed the hearts of everyone around her; including me. She would never have attempted murder if it wasn’t for that twisted game... I know that for certain.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course, it’s Togami’s chilling voice that plunders me back to the present.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We must remind ourselves that Junko Enoshima is no mundane human being; her near superhuman analytical skills were the perfect tool for her to manipulate, contort and craft a worldwide apocalypse. Her giddy, teenage girl persona was the perfect disguise that had many even an intellectual underestimate her. There’s no reason she won’t fall to despair again... especially if she allows herself to be traumatised by her past actions.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his straight nose, a gleam distorting his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kirigiri raises her head in agreement.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Togami’s correct. The consequences of her past might prove too much for her to handle. Could you imagine waking up to remember that you were the cause of The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event In Human History? That you were the reason countless innocents lost their lives? That you even killed your own friends... your own family?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“... Yes, I can, actually.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A smooth, familiar voice enters the restaurant; a suited, spiky-haired man with bi-coloured irises takes a seat next to me, orange juice in hand.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hinata! ... You heard our discussion, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He silently sips his chosen beverage, then looks to me, both olive and crimson eyes wide and intense.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes. My enhanced hearing allowed me to hear from several feet away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And... if you want to ask anyone what Enoshima might be going through... don’t you think that myself and Class 77-B are the most likely candidates?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s right. They, too, have not long recovered from despair, thanks to the smooth success of the Neo World Program... the same program we used on Enoshima...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t imagine what emotions you were all subjected to, Hinata... perhaps it would be wise if one of you were to —“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Denied. None of us wish to speak to her. Not even Tsumiki, despite reluctantly treating her in the hospital.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah... I see... I just thought—”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know. It’s not a completely ludicrous way of thinking; our scenarios do line up. Myself and the whole class had to face the harsh reality that we had all been pivotal players in the tragedy, the reason many lost their lives or fell to despair. I’m just... glad you and the Future Foundation found us when you did.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I smile at him. “Me too. I’m glad I could convince the intimidating Kamukura... hahahh...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When I had met Hinata, he wasn’t Hinata at all; thanks to Hope’s Peak shocking experimentation, Hinata had become an entirely new being going by the name Izuru Kamukura, with no memory of his past self. A god-like human imbued with every single talent that had ever been studied at the prestigious Academy. It was only thanks to convincing him that the Galaga hair clip he carried in his pocket was a sign that he should side with hope for the future... thanks to the one memory he did manage to recall of the past. The original owner of that hair clip — the one person who had managed to restore hope to his otherwise emotionless existence. That was enough to convince him to undergo the Neo World Program with the rest of the captured Remnants Of Despair.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. You really do live up to your title of Ultimate Hope, Naegi.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I awkwardly laugh, scratching the nape of my neck at the compliment.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, you’re the Ultimate Hope too, Hinata! Komaeda said as much. You really managed to help each and every one of your classmates in the simulation, including him. You make him so happy, I can tell.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He blushes a little at the mention of the skinny, white-haired male who constantly gushes about him. Since waking up from the Neo World Program, Hinata used several of his given talents to cure the former hope-obsessed lucky student of his advanced lymphoma and frontotemporal dementia — just one of the many good deeds that prove Hinata really is worthy of also being known as the Ultimate Hope.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He quickly swigs back the remainer of his drink, and rises to his feet.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you. Well, I’d better leave you three to get on; let me know if you need help with anything. May as well put these skills to use.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Togami also stands up from his seat. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I need to make my report back to HQ; we can’t have them thinking we are just dilly-dallying around in the Jabberwock Island sunshine all day.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kirigiri follows suit, tucking her chair neatly back under the table.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve already filed all the necessary paperwork thus far. Naegi... are you coming?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Coming... where?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“To the beach.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Is she... joking?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, um...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She quietly chuckles.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m kidding. As Togami said — we can’t be dilly-dallying when there is so much to be done.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hinata and Togami have already swiftly breezed out of the room. Kirigiri hovers there, presumably awaiting me deciding on how I shall be spending the remainder of the day.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I... I kinda wanna check on Enoshima. It’s tough to see her, but... I have to know. I have to see if she’s okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I see her smile fade a little.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fair enough. If anyone can plant the seed of hope within her, it would be you, wouldn’t it?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tears of perspiration trickle down my forehead.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um, that doesn’t sound right when you say it like that... hahah...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her expression turns to mild disgust.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know what I meant. If you need me, I’ll be in the main building on the central island; there’s a file on a certain topic of Enoshima’s past I feel will be worth looking over.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She takes her drink and papers with her as she struts toward the stairs... only to turn around as her palm hits the banister.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, and... Naegi?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“... Finish your coffee.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. TEARS</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Junko’s memory has mostly returned to her as she is reluctantly treated by Tsumiki in her hospital chamber. Naegi returns to check on her state of wellbeing... Junko is riddled with many questions. </p><p>Where is she?<br/>How did she survive?<br/>And why does Makoto Naegi... care about her?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Open w-wide.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The trembling nurse is balancing a spoon full of soup to my lips... but I can’t force myself to consume it. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Each time I’ve tried to take food down... I’ve almost immediately thrown it back up, much to the purple-haired healthcare worker’s dismay.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Y-you need to try, Miss.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">...</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m sorry — I can’t right now.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">*GULP!*</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Mmmfph!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Without warning, she had shoved the spoon in my mouth, the intruding metal chipping against my teeth — I aggressively gag as my throat is forced to swallow down the hot, thick consistency.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“There. I’m going to l-leave this h-here. Please finish it by the time I r-return...”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">She looks almost happy with herself that she had inflicted some kind of discomfort upon me. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Does she really... hate me that much?</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I can’t blame her.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I remember her now, after all — Mikan Tsumiki. The Ultimate Nurse. The first student of Class 77-B I had successfully brainwashed into despair...</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I had punched her, kicked her, treated her as nothing more than a wilful slave.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">As she exits, I lay myself down, ignoring the sickly growling of my stomach. Many thoughts clamper through my brain... my memory piecing itself back together like a distorted puzzle, the curved edges beginning to slot back into place...</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, Enoshima — May I come in?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It’s him. Makoto Naegi.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“... Sure.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">No use refusing him. If anything, maybe he can prove a welcome distraction. At least, that’s what I hope...</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Oh, hope; the irony.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He relaxes back into the nearby chair.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I just passed Tsumiki — she says you’re not feeling too hungry... aside from that, are you okay, otherwise?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I barely mumble. Instead, I just meekly nod.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“... That’s good. I promise I’m not here to grill you or anything... and, I’m sorry if seeing me is... uncomfortable, in any way. I just wanted to make sure you’re —“</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“— not about to kill myself? ... Yeah. I get it.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I can’t stop myself interrupting. I just don’t want to listen to him apologise any longer than necessary.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Naegi... can I perhaps ask you a few questions?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He smiles... does this man ever not exert positivity? Even when faced... with me?</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Sure.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">Where to start...?</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I guess I’ll start with the obvious.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">”Where am I?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He barely moves as he answers; he obviously expected such a question.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">”We’re on Jabberwock Island. You were brought here to be rehabilitated. You weren’t the only one; Tsumiki and the rest of her class were also subjected to the Neo World Program, but in a different software. The 15 of them shared a room while you were treated separately. Unlike them, though, you won’t remember the events of being inside the simulation — Hinata removed the memories as he deemed them too traumatising...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">As much as I want to ask more about this Hinata person, who is seemingly the reason I am <em>different</em> now... there’s something else I can’t wrap my head around.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“How did I survive? The last thing I remember is sitting in that chair on the conveyor belt... staring up as I was about to... you know...”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He turns his head on a tilt, looking slightly confused.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh...? So you... don’t remember what came after that, huh?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“... No. I assumed I had died. But... here I am.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He shuffles his position around, leaning closer toward me.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“... There was a glitch in the system. Alter Ego... he came to your rescue. Stopped the whole execution. You, of course, weren’t too happy about that... you knocked yourself out against a wall in a fit of rage. You had dropped the switch to the exit during the whole conundrum... so the six of us survivors carried you with us to the door, and were immediately  rescued by Future Foundation.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“A... glitch, huh? Guess it was my unlucky day...”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">What’s this? He’s... grabbed my hand. A desperate, emotional glossiness in his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Don’t say that! No matter what you did... we didn’t want to watch you die! None of us did!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“... Not even Togami?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yep. Not even Togami.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“That’s only because he would’ve preferred to torture me himself, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He grimaces... squeezing my palm tighter.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“And... another question; why didn’t Future Foundation just kill me? Surely they didn’t want me alive after... everything?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I convinced them not to. What kind of Foundation for bringing about hope would murder someone, after all?” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I laugh... unsure as to whether he’s naive, or just ignorant.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">But what I can’t ignore... is the touching of his fingers as they trace light circles into my clenched knuckles...</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I steal my hand away. This is all... too much.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Why would you even care about saving me? ... Look at me. I’m a mess. A write-off. A sad excuse for a human being. I’m the reason you all suffered so much... I even murdered my own sister...”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2"><em>Mukuro</em>...</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The pent up emotions take over — large, messy tears suddenly stream down my cheeks at an accelerated speed, my loud, sobering cries echoing off the surface of the claustrophobic walls.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">My eyes clasp shut, so I can’t see... and yet, I feel two arms wrap around me, embracing my fragile body. A gentle hand rising up behind my head, slender fingers combing softly through my dishevelled hair. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">What is this?</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Fluttering my sore, heavy lids back open, I realise that Naegi is leant over the side of the bed... cradling me in his arms like a child. My tears have soaked the shoulder of his jacket.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“S-stop...”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">If I’m honest with myself... I don’t really want him to stop — this is the first time in however long I can currently recall that I’ve ever been embraced this way. That I’ve ever felt... a sense of emotional comfort from another...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Another person who wasn’t my sister, anyway — the only person in this entire world that loved me unconditionally... and I took that devotion, and completely abused it... I even took her life, just to set an example... out of an never-ending boredom... and disgusting lust for despair...</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The thought of her causes me to bawl again. There’s no hope for me... and yet, this kind soul of a man continues to hold me close. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">And that is the way I stay, sobbing in his arms... his hand continuing to stroke my tangled locks... </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I feel some droplets fall upon my scalp... followed by some sniffling...</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He’s crying, too.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">... I close my eyes, nuzzling my head further into his neck. The tears refuse to let up; a single tear shed for each person I have ever harmed in my life. That means they’ll be endless, at this rate... </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">I can feel my thoughts fade into nothingness as exhaustion claims my consciousness once more...</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. OTONASHI</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kirigiri isn’t too pleased to discover Naegi and Enoshima asleep together in the hospital room... but it’s not what it looks like!</p><p>After the awkward encounter, Naegi returns to the cottage he shares with Togami to catch up on what he had missed during the day... as it turns out, there’s much about Enoshima’s past at Hope’s Peak that could prove useful to her recovery...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“... Unbelievable.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“H-huh?!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I suddenly jolt awake at the familiar voice.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kiri!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t ‘Kiri’ me...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh? Why are you...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">My words trail off as a sleepy strawberry-colored head tumbles further down into my elbow; I can’t believe I fell asleep on her...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then again... this whole situation has been exhausting.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“... I shall see myself out.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“W-Wait! I can explain!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I’m aware of how cliche I sound — being caught with the wrong girl in my arms. It’s like the plot of a bad daytime tv drama.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gently setting aside the unconscious Enoshima, I am quick to spring to my feet, almost falling over as my vision momentarily turns black from the sudden rush of blood.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kirigiri is already halfway down the corridor by the time I reach the doorframe.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kirigiri...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She comes to a halt... but doesn’t turn.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s late. We’ll discuss tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No! I can’t wait that long, I won’t sleep—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Seems you were sleeping just fine before I found you. Do you only sleep well in the company of former sociopathic murderers now?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Okay... she’s definitely pissed at me...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If you would just hear me out... “</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Goodnight, Naegi.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a low sigh, she slams the exit door behind her.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I hang my head low... the last thing I want to do is upset my closest friend. But if she won’t listen to me... if she won’t trust me... what can I do?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I’ll just have to explain in the morning. A part of me questions why I should even have to; it’s not like we’re together. We’re just friends... good friends, yes, but... </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Damn, my head hurts.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That was... because of me, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That voice...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Turning around, I see Enoshima leaning against the doorframe of her room in her hospital gown, one eye steadily opening.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I try my best to perk up, tidying my jacket.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t worry about it... we’ve all got high tensions in the air at the moment. These are uncertain times... we just gotta have hope, y’know?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“... No... I don’t know...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She wanders back into her room with an uncertain expression on her face.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I should probably go... but I can’t leave her in this state. There’s no telling what she’ll do... so I move after her.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Enoshima...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s fine, Naegi. You don’t have to babysit me. That klutzy nurse is doing a terrific job of that.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, well, if you’re sure... I’m only a call away if you need me. Here’s my card.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I set down one of my calling cards on the bedside table.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Goodnight, Enoshima.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah... Naegi?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mm?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She hesitates, looking down toward the floor, fiddling with a strand of her locks.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you... for earlier...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I feel a heat rise to my cheeks as I nervously laugh.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, it’s nothing! I wouldn’t leave anyone to cry by themselves.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah... nothing... mmhmm. Goodnight.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As I exit the room, I discreetly peer over my shoulder; she’s sat up, vacantly staring out of the window, her hair knotting up in her fingers. It’s so hard to imagine the amount of thoughts that must be pulsing through her brain at this current moment. I wouldn’t be able to sleep either in her shoes. She only managed some shut-eye earlier due to mental exhaustion...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I arrive back at the hotel. There’s limited cottages due to the entirety of Class 77-B residing on the grounds, so I’m staying with Togami. He answers the door in his a t-shirt and what are possibly the most expensive boxers I shall ever see in my entire life.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, if it isn’t the dirty stop-out.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, Togami... got caught up at the hospital.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hmfph. I suppose I should let you in.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He struts away toward the counter, the door hung open.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Coffee?” He offers, pouring the kettle.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, no thanks. I should sleep soon.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I close the front door after myself, then hang up my jacket in the closet, and begin to undress. Togami takes a seat on the sofa, sipping his chosen blend.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So.. how goes the despair whore?” He asks, not even a hint of irony in his words.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s... well, she’s not in a good place, that’s for sure. She was crying her eyes out earlier.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“As to be expected. While you were otherwise engaged earlier, I had another chat with Hinata. I’ve convinced him to engage her in a series of therapy sessions. He is somewhat of an Ultimate Neurologist these days, after all.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow, really?” I exclaim, fiddling with my tie. “That’s amazing! I’m sure he’ll be a great help for her, even if he’s not keen on the idea.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have no choice but to agree. He says he’ll begin tomorrow. I’ve also arranged with HQ for an agent to bring her some of her personal belongings; clothes, jewellery, makeup... no Monokumas, of course. If she desires a teddy bear, she can go win herself one at that garish amusement park for all I care.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I... don’t think Enoshima is quite in the mood for that kind of fun...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Now in just a sleep shirt and boxers myself, I yawn, making my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I leave the door open so I can continue to hear what the affluent prodigy has to report.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey Togami; you spoke to HQ earlier, right? What did Tenken have to say?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although I can’t see him through the wall, I picture Togami pressing his glasses toward his narrowed glare — something he always does before a monologue.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tenken is unable to leave HQ himself at present, but he is sending agents Munakata, Yukizome and Sakakura to come visit to mark up a detailed report for him. Apparently those three have volunteered themselves due to past encounters with Enoshima they wish to resolve. They’ll be with us in a couple of days.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, thath guuf I guethh...” I try to say through the toothbrush gliding around in my mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Indeed. Did Kirigiri catch up with you about her findings?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I spit the toothpaste in the sink, remembering the salty encounter with the detective from only an hour ago...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She didn’t say, no.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh? Strange. She informed me that she would catch up with you regarding the matter.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I decide to bend the truth a little... </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, it did get pretty late... all that research exhausted her, I guess.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I mean... it’s not a <em>complete</em> lie...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I see.” It’s hard to tell from Togami’s tone as to whether he actually bought my white lie or not, but he clearly isn’t too bothered to question any further.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I re-enter the main room, climbing into the single bed. We agreed to take it in turns during our visit; tonight was Togami’s turn to sleep on the sofa. I’m honestly still surprised he’s even allowing me use of the bed at all.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What did she find, anyway?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Togami is washing up his coffee cup in the sink; something I’m glad to see him do, since it is not unlike him to leave it for me to clean up instead...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She returned to investigating some files on Enoshima’s past, including a file she had herself written; but of course, with two years of our memories still missing, she can’t actually recall writing it. However, it appears that there was a period during that two year timeframe that Enoshima and her sister Ikusaba strangely took it in turns to attend class... and, coincidentally, a new girl with long red hair showed up on campus, showcasing the same Ultimate talent Enoshima possesses. Her name was Ryōko Otonashi, and she suffered from memory loss, leading to her receiving treatment at school from Yasuke Matsuda, the original Ultimate Neurologist.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although the subject is certainly not boring me, I yawn again, covering my mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is... a lot to take in... so there was this other student? And... they just happened to both have the same talent? What, Ultimate Fashionista, or...?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ultimate Analytical Prowess. Just one of the Ultimate level talents that Enoshima possesses. This girl, Otonashi, was apparently offered a place at Hope’s Peak due to this ability, despite the fact her memory capacity was that of a drunken goldfish, and her academical grades were flunking. Kirigiri suspects that someone had done some convincing with the school’s board to keep her from being expelled. To cut the long story short... both Otonashi and Matsuda went missing. Not too long after, Enoshima and Ikusaba returned to attending classes together instead of taking them in turns. Kirigiri concludes that this was too much of a coincidence... and that Otonashi and Enoshima were the same person all along, while Ikusaba was secretly disguised as Enoshima during some of that time to deflect suspicion, not unlike how we first met her in the Killing Game.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">I fidget uncomfortably at the revelation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh?! Otonashi and Enoshima... the... same person?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wow... Kirigiri sure is the Ultimate Detective to deduce all that by herself...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, you heard me. There was also a photo and student report card included in Kirigiri’s report of Miss Otonashi; red hair, red eyes, and a strikingly similar face to Enoshima, with the exact same measurements. I agree that it is safe to assume that they were indeed the same person.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No way... but... how, and why?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kirigiri believes that Enoshima was testing out the memory erasing abilities required to delete our memories... on herself. Although, she clearly regained them, while ours are still missing.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hinata said we could get them back with therapy though, right? As nothing is ever truly gone for good?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">We hadn’t quite gotten around to our memories being restored yet... Hinata has continuously been so busy helping all 14 Remnants Of Despair with their intense therapy, there hadn’t been time to bug him about much else... but he did promise to help us recover them soon. It’s just a shame it won’t be sooner... our memories would be so helpful to this whole situation. If only we could remember a time where we all thought Junko Enoshima was just a classmate... a friend...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s correct. Although it would certainly take some time. Maybe we even met this Otonashi during those forgotten years. But that’s a discussion for another day. The whole point of Kirigiri’s research earlier today was for... another reason.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And... what reason was that?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Togami turns toward me, a stern seriousness in his demeanour.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Despite being Junko Enoshima herself, Ryōko Otonashi was <em>not</em> Ultimate Despair... think about it.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Togami enters the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A million and one thoughts run through my head... </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But... I’m so... *<em>yaaaawnnn</em>*... </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">sleepy...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. HAIR</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Junko struggles internally with her guilt over the past... it’s punishment time, but with nothing to execute... except, perhaps, for those tatty, strawberry blonde locks...</p><p>Meanwhile, Hajime Hinata, now the Ultimate Neurologist among his many acquired talents, has been enlisted by Togami to begin therapy sessions with the former Ultimate Despair, who remembers him by a different name... and a different hairstyle. Will his abilities prove useful in Junko’s recovery? Or dig up one too many painful memories of a childhood that Junko would rather forget?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sleep... would be nice, right now...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But... I can’t.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To sleep, I’d have to close off my mind... shut down every single one of these voices in my brain... echoes of a past I wish I didn’t remember...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I glance over to the side — the soup from yesterday still sits untouched; it would be freezing cold now if I even attempted to consume it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I weakly tremble to my feet, having to keep both hands gripping the bed tight as I find my balance. Steadily, I make my way over to the bathroom. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I can’t help but catch my reflection in the mirror — I look hideous. Crimson, blotchy eyes, messy red hair with starved, bleached ends flickering up in all directions like a wildfire, and my frame... so skeletal, it’s a wonder how I’m still functioning at all.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I can’t believe <em>he</em> held me in his arms, looking like this...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Grabbing the nearby hairbrush, I attempt to sort out the atrocity that is my tardy ombré locks. Brush, brush, brush... every stroke of the brush killing me a little more, the knots are just so thick...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Having finally tamed my hair to some degree, I set aside my gown, and turn the shower faucet, entering the cubicle. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The water soon turns excruciatingly hot, burning my skin. Any sensical human would turn on the cold tap... but no. I am burning — and that’s the way it should be. Burn away this rotten skin... blister it’s surface... make me sore... this is the despair I deserve to feel... even if I don’t crave for it any longer...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“E-Enoshima! What are you d-doing? You’ll b-burn!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The room is filled with heaviness... and my entire being is numb from the pain... </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I don’t even register Tsumiki desperately turning off the shower, pulling out my naked form by my arms... my bare body landing on top of her.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Waaaahhh!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I don’t even react as I fall onto her in a rather compromising position, my hands sliding between her apron pockets.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“J-Jun — I mean... M-Miss Enoshima... ahh, um... you need a towel...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I remove my hands, but am otherwise completely still.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Enoshima... what were you th-thinking? Look — you’re all r-red and r-raw... eep...!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She glides her fingertips along my arm... the stinging sensation overwhelming. My eyes can’t help but wince up; a few salty tears trickling down my cheeks.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She carefully hoists me upright, and sits me on the toilet seat. The nurse stares at me, eyeing me up and down... then giggles a little to herself. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll make sure to take care of you b-better from now on, o-okay? You’ll be like my d-doll... I’ll w-wash you, dr-dress you... and make sure you’re pr-presentable... I could do your m-makeup, if you like? And your h-hair? Although, it won’t be as good as how you used to d-do it... hehehehh~...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Is this some... strange kink of hers?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is everything okay? I heard scr— oh shit!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A man appears at the door — its difficult to see through the thick steam, but I can just about make out the sheer look of wide-eyed horror on his face at the silhouettes of myself and the nurse. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“F-fuck, sorry! I’ll be outside...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“H-Hinata! You could’ve kn-knocked...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After a brief moment of paralysis, he closes the door, speaking in a high-pitched fluster through the wall.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“S-sorry, I heard screaming, and... ran... perhaps lock the door next time, Tsumiki...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Th-there are no l-locks on the hospital b-bathrooms...” She mumbles, under her breath.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It only just dawns on me as I hear his footsteps fade into the distance that the man... feels familiar...?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So... that’s Hinata...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tsumiki smiles, wrapping a towel around me. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes — Hinata has come to t-talk to you today. But first, you need to g-get dry... and eat some br-breakfast...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not hungry, thank you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She suddenly slaps my cheek.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“O-ow!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Another innocent giggle melodically vibrates from her vocal cords.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry! I j-just... can’t have a p-patient... starve to death on me... again...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s actually beginning to freak me out.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With my hair tied up, and a fresh new hospital gown, Tsumiki returns me to my bed... where Hinata is waiting in the visitor chair.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hold on.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hinata?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s not some Hinata person...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s... <em>Izuru Kamukura.</em></span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I remember him... even if he does look different now, with short, spiky brown hair instead of those long, dark obscuring tresses...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kamukura?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His eyes refuse to meet with mine...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tsumiki helps me back into the bed, then abruptly leaves to fetch me a breakfast meal that I’ll more than likely barely eat.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He softly begins to speak.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You never met me as Hajime Hinata, did you?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh... that’s who you were originally, hmm?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Correct.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His eyes finally look toward me — two unmatching irises; one of a gentle olive hue, the other a harsh, glowing red orb.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So... you’re both now? How does that work? Do you have to mentally battle for control or something?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No. We coexist as one being with no internal conflict.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Is he here to... be my therapist? It’s strange; despite the formal suited attire not too dissimilar to what Naegi and Togami were sporting the previous day, he doesn’t have any clipboard or papers with him like Kirigiri did.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I must warn you that I am not here to discuss myself. So don’t bother boring me with meaningless chatter.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah... so you’re another individual I’ve royally pissed off, I see.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His expression is completely emotionless as he ignores my remark — he really is the Kamukura I can recall from my past misadventures.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“At least tell me which name I should call you by.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He blinks.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Either Hinata or Kamukura are sufficient enough.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay... guess I’ll go with Hinata then, seeing as that’s what everyone else seems to call you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even though he is unmoving, I can sense him studying me in deep analysis; those mismatched eyes scanning me from head to toe.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I see you are beginning to exhibit your former personality traits, to some degree.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean?” I ask, although I know exactly what he is referring to.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sarcasm, quick-wit... charismatic charm...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you flirting with me, Hinata? That’s not very doctor-patient procedure.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His eyebrows furrow together.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No. I am not Tsumiki.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I stifle a satirical chuckle. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Speaking of the choppy-locked devil... as if on cue, the nurse returns with another bowl of that gastly soup, retrieving the cold leftovers from yesterday.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“M-make sure you eat up this time, Enoshima...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She cheerfully hums a little to herself as she exits. I notice Hinata faintly smile at her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He even likes that blithering, nervous wreck... </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I shove the mean thought away; I am, after all, in no position to judge right now, with the state I’m in...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Besides, I — never mind, my relationship status is not relevant to this discussion. I won’t sit here and tell you to eat, but I am here to help you with anything your mind may be weighing heavily upon. You can speak freely with me, for I shall be keeping our discussions confidential.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure. Like you’re not in cahoots with Naegi and the rest...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I peer over to the soup as my stomach hungrily growls... but the very sight of the pale lumpiness makes me want to hurl. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It is true that they are the particular Future Foundation individuals who asked me to engage in these sessions with you, and it is also true that I was not keen on the idea of ever interacting with you again after what you orchestrated during my high school years... but you have already noticed I have no pen or paper to hand, haven’t you? Such is the mind of someone with our shared talent of ultimate analysis. You will have perhaps also taken note of how there are no cameras in this room, too.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Damn... he sure is sharp.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I noticed. So you just gonna perfectly memorise our entire discussion, word for word?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, my memorising ability is that of an ultimate level too, along with my many other artificially acquired skills.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There isn’t even the slightest hint of irony in his voice.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So... what is it we gonna talk about, anyways? If you’re here to make me feel even more miserable, I’m doing a perfectly capable job of that by myself, thank you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“... But you no longer enjoy that feeling, do you? Despair is no longer of attraction to you. That’s something you realised in its entirety earlier, isn’t it? In the shower... scorching yourself with hot water brought you no joy... but you felt it is what you deserve...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I thought I said I didn’t want you making me feel any more shit.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For the first time in our brief conversation, he smiles. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It appears we are already making progress. Tell me, Enoshima... what is your earliest memory of enjoying despair?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who says I’m ready to talk about that?!” I exclaim — the cheek of this man.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I do. So answer me, and we can end this session sooner rather than later; something we’d both prefer, no doubt.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I sigh... I don’t know what on Earth makes him think I would want to get off on such a depressing subject so quickly after reacquainting. But, unfortunately for me, I’m not the one in control of this situation as I lay helplessly propped up in a hospital bed... so I try palming him off with a short answer.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Since the moment I was born.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Denied.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Newborn babies simply cannot recognise the emotion of despair with their infantile brains, and it is highly unlikely you would even remember being born, unless you have hyperthymesia, which, as someone who was borderline amnesiac only yesterday, there is a practically non-existent chance you would even be able to recall your birth. So, let’s try again; what is your earliest memory of enjoying despair, Enoshima?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His vocal tone is so soothing... I soon realise that he has me hypnotised by his voice. That sly asshole... I always did find him attractive, damn it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I answer honestly this time.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was very young...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I recount the events in clear spectroscopic color as I relive them through spoken words...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Me and Mukuro were pitted against each other from very early on in our miserable lives. By our parents, no less. I suppose you could say I was<em> the lucky one</em>; my mother and father pushed me headfirst into the world of modelling, my first publication being at the tender age of three. I can’t say I ever really enjoyed modelling, but it always served as a platform for success for my family, bringing in money and status.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“For Mukuro... things were more difficult. She was a sporadic child; often landing herself in trouble for climbing trees and engaging in fistfights at school — she wouldn’t settle for being bullied over her freckles. Her obvious blemishes and harsher stare meant she wouldn’t be able to have a successful modelling career like me, and our parents more or less told her as much. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I soon realised I had a knack for prediction; be it the latest fashion trends, or what would happen on the next five episodes of a TV drama before they were even written. Mukuro became jealous of me... we were twins, and yet, through some mysterious force, I was the younger sister with all the extraordinary talent. However, even with everything I had going well for me... I was dreadfully bored...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Everything in life had become so routine; I’d go to work, smile and pose in front of a camera for hours on end, return home late, have to eat the same boring meal every morning and every evening, and had little time to play or do the things a normal child would do. Any down-time I had, I had to go to school. I had nothing in common with the other children, and was practically shunned by friendship groups. Mukuro was my only company... and Yasuke Matsuda, another loner who was going through a rough time at home. For someone with my abilities, learning was as easy as cake... but the routine was tearing me down. I desperately sought a salvation from my eternal boredom. And that was where I began to feel jealousy toward Mukuro...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I couldn’t understand it. Why would I, the younger sister with all the talent and the good looks, be envious of my older twin; a delinquent brat of mere average appearance who was only skilled at athletic activities and getting into rough scuffles with other kids?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can recall one particular sunny Saturday where I couldn’t have been more than 8 years old... I finally broke down to my mother and father over breakfast. The other kids in the neighbourhood, including my one friend I had made, Matsuda, were running around outside in the sun, skipping around, collecting leaves, playing games... I watched them hopelessly through the sealed window. I simply requested of my parents that I would be allowed to join them for <em>just one day off</em> from the exhaustion of modelling... to be a normal child for one day... but they refused. They angrily insisted that I had no choice but to work that day; the job was for a major international company’s TV commercial, one that would mean continuous work via a long-term contract and widespread recognition, cementing me as the face of the brand and securing me a high-profile career. I saw Matsuda wave at me through the window as he passed... and I wished more than anything to be with him... building sandcastles in the park’s sandpit like we had occasionally gotten to do on my rare days off... and I snapped. I threw the biggest tantrum you could imagine. I threw my plate of food... and it smashed Mukuro on the head, slicing her. She cried and cried... and I just stood there, staring at my injured sister... the widest, maniacal grin on my face. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I enjoyed hurting her. I wanted to see her suffer. It wasn’t fair how she could do whatever she liked, while I was being milked as the family cash cow. I was incredibly confused; I loved my sister more than anything, and the feeling was mutual — I was Mukuro’s one friend in this godforsaken world, the only one who understood her... and yet, seeing her misfortune brought me a sense of satisfaction, fulfillment... a sick, twisted enjoyment. Something I would later spring upon the entire world as I formed my plan to plunge it into despair... so everyone would be able to finally understand me, and what I knew to be a thrilling, unpredictable way of life...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I realise I have been rambling on for a while. I had completely zoned out as I spoke. I look over to Hinata, imagining he had probably fallen asleep, but no; he’s sat upright, with full attention to my every word, memorising it all as he said he would.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I see... Interesting. Thank you, Enoshima — that will be all for today.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He rises from his seat, and makes for the exit.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He turns. “Yes?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Was that supposed to be helpful... for me? Or... for you? And the Future Foundation? I’m confused...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“... It shall be helpful for all parties. But don’t worry; this conversation will stay with me for now. Until next time.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The soup Tsumiki had brought me once again grows cold and untouched as I can’t stop recounting my own memories I had revealed to Hinata only an hour earlier. I didn’t realise they would weigh so heavy upon me afterward...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If Mukuro were alive, I would apologise for everything. I’d hold her tight, feeling her warmth against me, something I had always hated before when she hugged me. I was so full of spite and disgust over my own feelings... when, in reality, it was our upbringing to blame. If only we could’ve been two normal, talentless children with a normal, average childhood... free to make our own choices. We could’ve been <em>happy</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As for Yasuke... my only friend... my first love... the one I had promised I’d always be by his side, no matter what... </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If I could turn back the clock, maybe I could’ve just stayed existing as Ryōko Otonashi, just living day-to-day with no real motive except for seeing Yasuke every morning for therapy... watching him hopelessly as he laid under the bed, reading his manga...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It doesn’t seem right that I should live while the two people who were closest to me are no longer among the living... all thanks to my psychotic obsession with despair.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">If only I could murder despair the same way I so easily murdered them...</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once again, I enter the bathroom. I gaze down at the scissors I had sneakily stolen out of Tsumiki’s pocket when I fell upon her earlier. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s so many things I can think of using them for... all of which, utterly despair inducing... </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But I would not enjoy it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Instead, I stare upon my reflection; a messy shell of the fashionista I used to be. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There is one thing that would make me feel better... </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With my forefinger and thumb inserted in the holes, I hold the sharp blades up ... and, without further ado —</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*Snip*</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*Snipsnip*</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*Snipsnipsnip* ... *snipsnipsnip* ...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">One by one, strands of bleached hair line the basin... </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What is left before me is an almost unrecognisable red headed young woman with a choppy mop of short, soft waves. A small strand atop my scalp sticks up in alerted attention. All of what used to be the infamous strawberry blonde pigtails of the Ultimate Despair lie as a pile of dry, dead ends in the sink.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">... I still feel like an incredibly despicable excuse for a human being. I still don’t believe I am worthy of such redemption... but seeing myself with a brand new look, one that’s so distant from that delusional teenager I used to be... maybe there’s just a <em>little</em> glimmer of hope for me, after all.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. STRAWBERRIES & CREAM</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Naegi oversleeps, waking up in the afternoon with no Togami or Kirigiri in sight. As he heads to get some food at the restaurant with the other former lucky student, Nagito Komaeda, neither of them could have possibly anticipated the renewed Junko Enoshima awaiting them... with a brand new look.</p><p>How did Junko escape the hospital? Where did she find the clothes? And why is she just casually sat in the restaurant feasting on cream-covered strawberries?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*<em>YAAAAAWN....*</em></span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Man, I tossed and turned like crazy all night...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I hope everyone else got better sleep than I did.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Slowly, I roll over to check my phone on the side cabinet; it’s 2pm.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Crap; it’s so late in the day!</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No new texts, no missed calls.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I guess Enoshima didn’t feel the need to call me on the hospital line...</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But neither did Kirigiri.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Kirigiri</em>...</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I should probably think of a way to apologise... right?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I mean, I should be the one to say sorry... even if what happened at the hospital was completely innocent and Kiri’s the one who took it out of proportion...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Agh — I’m still too tired for this kind of heavy-thinking.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rolling over onto my other side, I see that Togami is nowhere to be seen. I should probably go find him...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After showering and getting dressed, I make my way over to the hotel... only to bump into the other former lucky student leaving his cottage, casually dressed in beach shorts... and not much else.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Naegi! You headed over to the restaurant?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Komaeda smiles, waving a palm. Since our visit to the island, he’s always been so friendly and welcoming towards me, despite hardly knowing who I am. I guess Hinata has told him a lot about me...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Er, yeah! What about you? Isn’t Hinata with you?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ahh... he left early. For... well, I assume you know why.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His grin fades; just as Togami informed me the previous night, Hinata was visiting Enoshima this morning to provide a therapy session...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">From all of the information I gathered about Komaeda, he has possibly the strongest hatred for Enoshima out of the entire Class 77-B. Hinata had told me before of the guilt he feels over his classmate Chiaki Nanami’s death, and how he felt that had she not been with him in the secret underground lair that day... she wouldn’t have been killed, and none of his class would have been brainwashed into despair. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I can see how that burden would lay heavy on someone clearly as emotional as Komaeda...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah... I know why.” I answer. “But I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that Hinata will be just fine; I mean, he’s pretty awesome, isn’t he?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That melancholic frown transforms back into a sunny beam.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah... you’re right. He’s amazing. I’m sure he’ll be back soon, anyway. He said he’d stop off at the Rocketpunch to pick up something to cook for us tonight before heading home. If you think Hanamura’s cooking is phenomenal, then you should try Hinata’s... he’s out of this world!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">We begin to walk together toward the hotel steps.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re always dressed so smart, Naegi... have you not hit the beach yet?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh? R-Really?” I can’t help but feel a little bashful from the compliment... “Thank you. And not yet... this whole situation with you-know-who hasn’t left me with much free time.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I climb up the stairs before him, thinking over about how this whole situation has worked me hard like a dog...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well... what do you have planned for the rest of today?“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah... I’m not sure...” I still need to speak with Kirigiri...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, if you wanna come join me on the beach for a bit... you’re more than welcome to. I’d like the company, if I’m honest. Hinata usually joins me, and I find the ocean waves calming to listen to... it’s very therapeutic. Besides that... beneath the palm trees is a great place for a nap.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sounds like a commercial tour guide... in an odd way, he’s kind of adorable.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks, Komaeda. Always nice to know I’ve made a friend here!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that’s when I see his jaw drop.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sir... you consider... lowly scum like me... a friend?!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All of a sudden... he hugs me.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Agh—!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I almost lose my balance at the top step.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry, it’s just... I don’t have many people call me their friend... and for someone who is known as the Ultimate Hope to consider me as such... not just one Ultimate Hope, <em>but two</em>... I’m so happy!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After awkwardly patting Komaeda on the back as he gleefully sobbed into my shoulder, he finally let go, and we entered the restaurant.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neither of us were prepared for what we saw.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A shapely woman; a crimson red choppy bob haircut, matching fiery irises, taloned clawed nails, a smart-looking blazer with pleated miniskirt and faux leather boots, her look completed with a neat tie and monochrome hairbow. The stranger sits at the nearby table, snacking on strawberries and cream.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Could it be...?</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Enoshima? Is... that you?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The unrecognisable female peers up at the pair of us through thick mascara-coated lashes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, if it isn’t the lucky hope squad...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That quick-witted sarcasm... it’s her, alright.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I sense Komaeda becoming increasingly uncomfortable beside me...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um, I’m gonna wait outside...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Komaeda? ... Please stay.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She pats the seat next to her, beckoning both of us to join her at the table.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I can see a nervous shudder echo through Komaeda’s entire body as we both take a seat opposite the former model.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Upon closer inspection... one can easily tell the woman before us is Enoshima. But seeing her look so otherworldly different from her infamous pigtailed look...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What happened to your hair, Enoshima?” I ask, without thinking.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her eyes widen in feigned shock.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Whaaat? You don’t... like it?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“N-no! Er, I mean yes! I do! It’s just... aren’t you still supposed to be in the hospital? And your clothes...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She carelessly bites down on the strawberry she was sucking at, humming as she chews.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I talked Tsumiki into buy me some threads from the store. They’ll do until I can get my own shit back from FF. Kinda digging it, though. Anything’s better than that clearly gross medical gown with my ass hanging out.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Myself and Komaeda are stunned silent for the moment; only yesterday, the woman before us was a tearful, near-suicidal wreck... and now she’s cracking crude jokes with a carefree attitude.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Junko Enoshima truly is remarkable...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“As for leaving the hospital... meh. I got bored. Only so much of staring at the same four walls a gal can do. Besides, chatting to Prof Hinata earlier was an eye-opening experience. Is he always so... what’s the word? ... <em>Tsundere</em>~? Heh heh...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t talk about Hinata like that!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Komaeda transforms from his calm state into a fit of agitation. He leaps to his feet, chair flying backward, clenched fists banging down on the table.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“K-Komaeda... calm down—“ My efforts are to no avail as his usually quiet voice booms over me.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No! It’s bad enough that Hinata had to take time out of his day to waste on someone as disgusting as you! He should’ve been spending his morning relaxing, taking it easy, enjoying our new life together... but once again the idiotic Foundation are working him like a star attraction zoo animal, making him perform all of his spectacular tricks, and for what? To save an unredeemable soul such as yourself, Enoshima? You should have just died! Better yet, I should’ve killed you when I had the chance! NOW, GO DROWN YOURSELF AND YOUR CHEAP HAIRCUT IN THE OCEAN, WHORE.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">... And just like that, he storms out of the restaurant...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I turn my head back to Enoshima; her big eyes are even rounder in astonishment as she watches the last whisp of Komaeda’s wavy ahoge disappear down the stairs.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She sighs, resting her fork in the dish, a strawberry still impaled on the end of it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“... Sorry. Guess I should go buy myself a new personality, huh? If only I could purchase myself a completely different past history, too...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In a bizarre way... I can kind of understand her behaviour. She’s trying to cover her fear and anxiety with humor and smiles... I know a few people like that. Komaeda himself is not so different. But I can also understand the way he reacted to seeing her like this, too...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Trying to diffuse the awkward encounter that just unfurled before my very eyes, I get straight to questioning Enoshima 2.0...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So... how long have you been out of the hospital for? And how did things go with Hinata?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well... aren’t you just the one with all the questions today, hmm, Naegi?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s faint, but... I see a trickle of a smile creep back along her glossy lips. A chuckle escapes me before she promptly answers, swirling her fork in the dish.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not long. As soon as Tsumiki returned with the items from the cute little shopping list I gave her, I got dressed and left for the restaurant about an hour ago. I didn’t bump into anyone, which was kind of a relief. As for therapy...it really was an eye opener, I can’t deny that. And a mouth opener, too. It was like I was hypnotised into revealing my tragic level 5 friendship backstory... but y’know what? It felt... good. To finally lift some things off this gigantic chest of mine.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oh god, did she have to say that? My eyes immediately find themselves wandering down of their own accord...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Pull it together, Makoto.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And Tsumiki just... let you up and leave?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mmhmm. Although, I’m still technically under house arrest...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She reveals to me her wrist... a metal bangle encircling it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Apparently that mechanic, Souda, made it for me, isn’t he a sweetie pie? ‘Totes matches my new outfit. Apparently this little trinket will blow me to smithereens if I spend 10 seconds outside of the set perimeters for me, though. What a bummer.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“WHAT?!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Is that some kind of joke? What on Earth were the former remnants thinking, creating something that dangerous?!</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Enoshima just giggles, finishing off her last strawberry.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t worry; it beeps like crazy in a high pitched screech if I go too far. Tsumiki says I also have to be back by 9pm, or this baby’s magic microbombs will change me into a bloody pumpkin. Damn, midnight would’ve made more sense... but whatever.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So... you’re on a time limit, and trapped within a limited space...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thaaaat’s riiiight! I can only be a free-ish bird between the hours of 9am-9pm! I say free-ish, because I’m aware that the island cameras are observing my every move, aaaand I’m assuming any forbidden actions such as murdering an island resident will also result in me going KA-BOOM... isn’t modern technology incredible?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is all so much to process... where’s Togami and Kirigiri to help me keep my head in check?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“... Naegi? Relax. I’m not gonna kill anyone. I’m... not that person, anymore. Pinky promise.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, sorry... I wasn’t thinking that, actually. It’s just... I need to find Togami and Kirigiri.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, Kirigiri... yeah. I’m assuming you want to apologise to her or something, hmm?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?! How did you —?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m a smart cookie. And a female. We women know these things, y’know.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I really shouldn’t underestimate Enoshima... not that I ever have, but her sheer intuition... it’s so sharp, it could cut through steel with a single flick.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I fidget in my seat... realising I need to eat something, or I’ll not function for the remainder of the day, especially with all of this new information I need time to process...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m just gonna grab some food... and then I’ll best be on my way.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good idea. I’d highly recommend the strawberries. Hot dayum, they’re juicy.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everything this new, re-envisioned Enoshima says and does is just so... so...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">... I don’t even have the words to process it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So I tremble to my feet... and grab a bowl of strawberries, just as I was recommended to do so by the former Ultimate Despair sat cross legged at the table.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Enoshima remains sat in her chair, dreaming off into the distance.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wonder how I should spend the rest of my boring, lonely day...” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well... you could go for a walk. Perhaps not at the beach on this island though... that’s where Komaeda was headed. What about along the shore at the beach house on the second island?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mmm... not a bad idea. You’ll come with me though, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“M-me...?” I stutter, not sure what to do in this situation...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Well, I do feel that leaving her alone would be a bad idea, even with the safety bangle threatening her life, should she try anything...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe I’ll bump into Togami or Kirigiri on the way, too?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I mean, now I think about it... if they really needed me urgently, they could just call me on my cellphone...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s grinning at me again. Damn it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t make me beg you, Naegi.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No need! I’ll...I’ll come with you. But only for a little while, then I really do need to catch up with Togami and Kirigiri.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She springs up from her chair, arms extended upwards in a victory pose.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yaaaay! As soon as you’re finished... let’s head out! This’ll be fun.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! This is an ongoing fanfic — check back soon for more chapters!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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